


In Absence of Answers

by beekeepercain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Biblical References, Destiel - Freeform, Dreams, Episode: s08e16 Remember the Titans, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger, Gen, Implied Torture, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekeepercain/pseuds/beekeepercain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The end of <i>Remember the Titans</i> and the trailer for <i>Goodbye Stranger</i> left a bleeding hole in my soul, so I crudely patched it with a fic.<br/>For <b>cadkitten</b>, because she read this and unf priceless reaction is priceless.</p>
    </blockquote>





	In Absence of Answers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/gifts).



> The end of _Remember the Titans_ and the trailer for _Goodbye Stranger_ left a bleeding hole in my soul, so I crudely patched it with a fic.  
>  For **cadkitten** , because she read this and unf priceless reaction is priceless.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Dean blinked slowly before getting up. The feel of the angel right next to him was real but he feared it'd stop being so if he'd be too rash, if he'd disturb the moment anyhow. He turned to look at the other just as slowly, and Castiel's eyes met his with a warmth contrasting like day and night to the way his vessel looked. His skin was pale and he had dark rings around his eyes like he'd suffered a bad bloodloss, and he had stains of dried blood all over his face and coat and shirt peeking out from under. He was bruised, torn and weakened, but his expression was calm and caring.  
Beyond that look, however, the worst damage was showing. The desperation, the fear, all that was broken inside him.

Dean swallowed and reached for him, fearfully, until his finger bent against the coarse stubble of the male's cheek. Castiel tilted his head ever so slightly into the touch and smiled.  
"Are you really here, Cas?" Dean whispered, and he knew the fear in his eyes was much clearer than that in Castiel's.

The angel nodded slowly. His smile grew half an inch and he raised a hand and laid it on Dean's shoulder.  
"We're inside your dream, Dean. But I am really here, even if _here_ isn't real."

Dean would have nodded, but his neck felt stiff and unwilling to bend. His eyes were just as reluctant to leave the angel's features. He didn't know what to say now that he could say anything.  
Finally, he cleared his throat and decided on the one question he'd asked the most.  
"Where are you?" he coughed up, then reconsidered, "I mean - where have you been? Why didn't you answer? You're hurt - what's going on?"  
The rest of the questions flooded out like fearful animals after the one that had shown them the way.

Castiel's lips pursed together before he opened his mouth, eyes straying off from Dean. They read the room now instead - it was the same one Dean was, in reality, sleeping in. His own bedroom in the base. He hoped the image was detailed enough to make up for the real deal. Castiel seemed to know what it meant to him; perhaps he wasn't there for the first time. He'd stayed invisible before.  
The thought was like molten iron pouring around Dean's heart and closing in on it.  
He'd prayed so many times, begged for the other to show himself, to answer, to give a sign. If he'd been there the whole time... Dean wasn't sure if he could take it.

His trail of thought was interrupted by the older looking at him again. An absent smile lit up on the angel's features again, as if sparked unintentionally by Dean.

"I don't have long," he said, choosing each word carefully, "I wanted you to see me now as I am. You will understand. I did not choose this. Now you know."  
He closed his eyes.  
"No matter what it comes down to, I have done... my very best, Dean."  
When he opened them again, he was looking straight into the younger's eyes.  
"And I have heard you pray - I have heard every word and ignored not a single one of them."

Dean barely heard what he spoke, not from the words that were only visible unspoken on his features. _Help me. Please, I can't fight it. I'm afraid._  
Now he realised that the damage done wasn't from fighting: it was torture. With understanding lighting up his eyes, he answered the older's look and tried to find the words to use.  
"I know, Cas. You don't need to worry about that now."  
He swallowed thickly and forced a smile. It turned out more natural and honest than he'd expected.  
"I'm really glad you could make it, man. And you know - if something happened..."

Castiel had once said his head was the least private and safe place to talk. Dean remembered, and he knew this was why the other wasn't giving answers nor acknowledging his questions, even talking in a manner that would only message Dean the real state of things. To everyone else, his words would merely sound vaguely cryptic.  
"... if something happened," Dean repeated, his voice almost carelessly cheerful at the same time as his eyes were piercing and dead serious, "We'd be there for you too."

Castiel's expression changed for just a second, a sort of a fearful relief flashing over his features. Then he nodded. From his pocket, he pulled out a crumbled little piece of paper and looked at Dean with a pleading expression. Dean knew he'd leave - he kept looking as the angel stood up, and the eye contact they shared only broke as the other disappeared. He left behind a single black feather that fell down to the floor slowly.  
Dean turned to look at the note his fingers were rolling open.

_1 Peter 4:8_

And that was all.


End file.
